


Balance

by Virtual_Reality



Series: Steve and Bucky through the years [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky is horny, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eating Disorders, Great Depression, I'm Sorry, It's bad, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Post-Coital Cuddling, Protective Steve Rogers, Rough Kissing, Steve Feels, Steve helps, Top Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:50:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virtual_Reality/pseuds/Virtual_Reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fixed the glitch, sorry again for the inconvenience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I didn't get this up Sunday, I had family problems again, and it wasn't safe. (I cried for an hour because I felt like I was letting y'all down!) Here it is, hope it's okay because I'm too sleepy to edit anymore. It's definitely not my best....

James spends his entire Saturday alone, lying on the couch, a contented Beau, who'd turned out to be a complete cuddle slut, curled up on his chest. He's the only one keeping James company when Steve was out nowadays, taking on small missions now that James had become stable. The idea of missions still doesn't settle with him, but Steve had assured him his own missions were very different from James' previous ones., and given him the details he was allowed to share.

It's nearly seven when Steve returns home, and James still hadn't moved from the couch. He gives Bucky a tired smile, and a kiss to his forehead, continuing into their bedroom for a shower. James didn't move from his spot, flipping lazily through the television channels, trying to find something interesting for him to completely ignore.

Things had been so quiet recently, James still trying to find his place in the little family he'd created for himself. Tony was great, but he's a bit loose with his tongue, and sometimes that could be upsetting. Natalia - Natasha - is great, but sometimes being close to her brought back bitter memories he'd rather forget. Clint is still at the top of the list, especially when he'd shown him the target practice arena, and James got to challenge his marksmanship. It had become a competition between them, setting, and breaking each others records, and it gave James something to look forward to.

James knows Clint was no cleaner than Natalia, but he still can't imagine such a lighthearted fella doing the things he'd done. He'd heard stories, read his files, seen his speed and accuracy, and it gives him hope that maybe he can reach such a stage in his own recovery.

Steve returned from his shower dressed in civilian clothes - not pajamas - and scooped his legs up, settling at the end of the couch with James' feet in his lap, and a book in his hands.

For the longest time, Steve read, or, pretended he was reading, and James pretended he didn't see the frequent concerned glances Steve stole over the top of his book.

"You haven't turned a page in five minutes." Bucky teases, scratching at a now sleeping Beau's ear.

Steve huffs a breath, and turns a page, trying to hide the smile that curls on his lips. James props himself up on his elbows, "That's an early sign of Alzheimer's, you know. You should probably get that checked out, old man."

Steve pushes his feet off the couch for that one, "You're talking to me about memory loss?"

"I'm just stating a fact." James sat up, holding Beau, who'd stirred awake, tail wagging happily, in his arms. Gently, he kisses the top of his furry golden head before sliding across the couch to sit in Steve's lap. Beau instantly came to life in his arms when he saw Steve, jumping onto his chest, and struggling to get close enough to lick his face. James can't really blame him for that, but makes an honest attempt to wind him down.

Steve only chuckles softly, and pays him attention for a few minutes, giving him a belly rub when he turns onto his back. James rests his head on Steve's shoulder, watching him play with Beau with quiet interest. He'd not said this to anyone, but the reason James had chosen Beau was that he reminded him of Steve. Small and skinny, and weak, but still managing to muster the strength to walk up to the bars of his kennel and peer out at them curiously. James could only imagine his rescue, maybe he was found on the streets, starved and alone. Maybe his previous handlers were abusive. The possibilities were literally limitless, but with only one look at him, James' heart - if he still had one - had gone out to him. Nothing so precious should ever be kept in a cage.

Eventually, Beau settled, and James deposited him on the floor to run out some of his energy, or more likely, nibble at Steve's very ticklish toes - he has a fetish or something, James had learned that soon after bringing him home.

With a sigh, Steve has James' full attention, fingers combing through his still damp hair, soft kisses pressed all over his face, cheeks, lips, feather light to his eyelids, watching the tension drain away from Steve's body as he relaxed into the couch.

"When's the last time you ate anything?" Steve asks, out of nowhere

James has to think a moment, a pause in his kisses, and earns another dramatic sigh before Steve opens his eyes, looks at him, and takes his hand, drawing a thumb across his knuckles. He hadn't intentionally been skipping meals, he just forgets. He has a lot on his mind, and being hungry wasn't something that was new to him. He could ignore it easily, even unconsciously. Steve's fingers loop around his wrist, drawing James' attention to how thin it was starting to look, how the bones were starting to stand out. "Do I need to stop working, sweetheart? Or get someone else to stay with you?"

"No, I'm fine." James couldn't ask Steve to give up his missions, take away the joy he brought back home with him, lose the outlet for his never ending flow of energy. He couldn't ask any of the others to sacrifice their time, either. "I'll have JARVIS remind me. That's a thing that he can do, right? Besides, Beau is enough company for me."

"Okay," Steve agrees, "but you have to take better care of yourself, Buck. I worry enough as it is."

James nods.

"C'mon, I'll take you somewhere for supper."

That had been Steve's intentions, food, but they barely found their parking spot before James was climbing over the console to get close to him.

James hands beneath Steve's shirt is almost as distracting as his mouth, demanding every ounce of his attention. They have to shift around in the small space, compensate for their limited mobility in their passion. "If I'd known you just wanted to make out in the car, I might've picked a different place to park," Steve is interrupted by a kiss, "or just cooked at home," James pressed his shoulders back against his seat. "I thought you were hungry."

"I am," Bucky leans in, licking along the seam of Steve's lips, "and your shoulder to waist ratio looks fuckin' delicious, just let me tell you." He pants, hooking a hand behind Steve's neck, "Gonna start at your thighs, and work my way back up to your lips, Stevie." He kisses him briefly, nibbling at Steve's smiling lips. "Wonder how long it would take me."

"Wouldn't take me very long." James' lips twitch against Steve's pulse.

"I think I'll have you for my desert," he sighs, "You're much too sweet to be the main course," he catches Steve's lower lip between his teeth, sucking gently before he pulls away, and sits back a little, still wedged tightly between Steve and the steering wheel. "It's a pity you missed the fifties, you would've loved them." James smiles, and presses his palms flat against Steve's chest. "I will get you back in suspenders, though."

Steve smirks, and pushes the door open, "Get you all hot under the collar for me?" "Hot in other places, too." He agrees, holding tightly to Steve as he eases them out of the car. "Next time, we take your bike."

They sat in a booth, on the same side, so Steve could press his shoulder against James'. If nothing else, they'd mastered the art of subtlety, even if people were more likely to make assumptions concerning their sexuality today than in the past. James had been ravenous, and Steve is glad to see him eat.

Growing up in the Great Depression, it wasn't uncommon for them to have to go a while between meals, especially when him and Bucky moved in together. Most often, they were just lucky to make the rent, even if they had asked for a time extension more than once. Steve had hated seeing Bucky hungry in the thirties, and he still couldn't stand the thought. There was no reason for that now. They had plenty, more than enough.

They didn't linger after they'd eaten. Recently, James couldn't keep his hands to himself for very long, and they were supposed to be keeping a low profile. He'd barely been able to keep his hands off him the whole way home, and when they stepped out of the elevator, over the threshold onto their floor, he finally kissed him, and didn't let up for breath until he felt lightheaded.

From there, it had been a dance. Steve wasn't sure what had changed in Bucky, but there was a distinct shift, and lately, he'd been insatiable, his sex drive had shot up, asking nearly every night, and when they were together, James' hands were almost ever present on Steve's body, his face, his chest, his hips, skimming down his torso to tug his shirt free from his trousers like they were now, and Steve allowed himself to soak in the attention, starving for it.

James' back is pressed against a wall, eager lips nibbling along his neck as he groped Steve, trying to get closer to him, he was never close enough, even with Steve pressed up against the entire length of his body, hard against his hip, James wants him closer, wants to lose track of where Steve ends, and where he begins. Steve's hands are on his ass, groping eagerly, and his mouth is at James' neck, sucking the tender skin there until his legs feel like jello. He doesn't know how Steve had figured out how that affected him, but he was glad he did.

James is trying desperately to get through all the damn buttons on Steve's shirt. They're hard to get open with his metal fingers, and he's already ruined so many of Steve's shirts in his impatience. It's not his fault, Steve knows he struggles with buttons, and continues to wear those damn button downs. He's had warning enough, James thinks.

When Steve's fingers tuck beneath the fabric of his jeans' James gives up on the buttons, hooking a hand behind Steve's neck, and pulling him in for an urgent kiss, his hands moving to yank at Steve's belt. Belts are easy. James turns them, and gets Steve backed up against the wall, in the hallway now, barely a few feet travelled between their kisses, yet still so far from the bedroom. One quick look towards the bedroom, and Steve's hands grope down his body, squeeze his ass, pulling him tighter to his chest, his mouth finding James' pulse, biting and sucking the skin, palm skating down James' spine, drawing a shiver through his body, and a soft moan from his panting lips, and fuck him if that's not fuckin' distracting, He forgets the bedroom, and slips a palm down to press against the bulge in Steve's trousers. Two can play at this game.

Fingers slip through James' hair, and tug gently as Steve moves his mouth back to James' almost impatient in his eagerness. With one hand still gripping in his hair, another rucks his shirt up to touch his chest, his back, anywhere he could reach, hooking around James back, and pulling him flush, sucking gently at his lips and tongue. James makes a soft sound of encouragement against his mouth, opening Steve's jeans to slip a hand inside, cup it over his bulge and giving a single, gentle, squeeze.

Steve's groan melts Bucky's insides, and when he curses around some likeness of his name, the sound is husky, and rough, and beautiful. James hums a soft "Mmmm," in response, and Steve leads him backward until his back finds the opposite side of the hallway with a thick chuckle into Steve's mouth, and a final parting suck to his bottom lip, James pulls away in time for Steve makes one last move towards the bedroom, right as James tucks fingers in his boxers. Abruptly, Steve lifted him from the floor, and Bucky's hooks his legs around Steve's hips, holding tight. Momentarily distracted by the change of angle, Steve lingers, pressing James tighter against the wall, trapping him there with his firm body, kiss edging aggression as he struggled to get more and more in messy, clumsy movements.

James has always been a passionate kisser, and this past year had been no exception, but again, it had changed in the months they'd spent together. Again, with that shift, and Steve wished he could trace back to the moment it had changed, figure out what it had been that had caused his change of heart. The very thing that had triggered this season of positive response. James still had nightmares. He still struggled with his thoughts. He still has the occasional anxiety attacks, but from his demeanor, you'd never know it. He seemed to have found the perfect balance between moving on, and continuing his treatment. Steve knew it would take a while for James to let go of his past, even longer for him to forgive himself, but Steve was thankful that he'd stopped letting it control him. Stopped letting it define who he was, and what he could be. He was so thankful, especially now that he was staring to get Bucky back. He didn't know why it was happening but he wouldn't tempt fate by questioning this wonderful gift that was James' continued healing.

Steve is set on making it to the bed, and refuses to be distracted until James had been deposited on top of it, making quick work of his jeans as he leans in to taste Bucky's mouth again, drawn to him, tortured by his craving, and in desperate search of a fix. Bucky's hands are constant on him, searching down his body, shoving his trousers off, and drawing him in closer with a hand on his ass to be more thoroughly groped. Steve stood beside the bed, and he has to lean down to reach Bucky's lips, cupping his face in both his hands

James doesn't let Steve lay him back right away, he takes his time riling him up, peeling away his boxers, and shoving them down, and with the fingers of his left hand buried in Steve's hair, keeping him involved in their kiss, he lets his right stoke over Steve's body, pinch a nipple, caress his ribs, trace his abs, cup his balls, weigh them in his hand, roll them gently in his palm. Testing, learning what touches made Steve's mouth slack against his own, what touch changes the pattern of his breathing, and using those more often until, with a groan, Steve had broken away from his mouth, hesitated, moving back in for a quick kiss, that turns into a quick series of kisses, before reaching across to snatch the lube from where it rested, nearly empty, atop the nightstand.

It had been so easy for James to open up to Steve after he'd acknowledged, at least to himself that his attraction for the other man was edging affection. The longer he thought about it, the easier it became to accept, the easier it became to remember when he spent long moments reflecting on their time together, and maybe he didn't suppress all the goofy smiles before Steve noticed, but to see Steve smile back at him was worth it. He didn't tell Steve, but part of him wondered if he'd ever need to. If anyone would remember what James looks like deep under the spell of what surely wasn't love yet, but was definitely a season of infatuation, it was Steve.

When Steve gets inside him, James can't suppress a quiet moan, and he can feel the flush of warmth spread through him when he looks up at Steve. He still had his undershirt on, but at least he'd removed the damn button down, allowing James to see the lines of his torso, and the shift of muscle beneath creamy, fair skin.

It was one of the perks of switching back and forth, that things never became dull, and having been with so many different people - not partners, random people, - James knows how repetition can make one weary, and while the idea of a constant partner had previously seemed incredibly drab, now, as Steve grasped his hips, fucking him hard, the thought was pushed far from his mind. Steve was huge, and he got so deep, his movements confident, and assertive, even as he started slow, not because he was shy, but to tease, and when James was squirming, Steve would build gradually.

Heat clenches in Bucky's abdomen, pooling in his belly, though the build of pleasure was slow, the friction, indirect. James' hands grip his thighs, keeping himself spread for Steve, at least until he leaned over him, and Bucky can hook his legs over Steve's shoulders. James had gripped Steve's biceps, eager to keep him close, and Steve had fucked him harder, pounding into him, raw, and needy, aching with the desire that was slowly being satiated.

He'd been able to get Steve to pause long enough for him to flip onto his stomach, and hitch a leg up to keep himself spread, this was the best position, allowing for the most direct friction without any elaborate yoga twists, and the gratifications were instant. James felt then as soon as he slid back inside, the twinge of pleasure, a feeling unique to it's own category, accompanied with a sensitivity that balanced somewhere between uncomfortable, and amazing. Steve was relentless in this position he knows to be comfortable, pushing James into the mattress with the power behind each of his thrusts, his hands grip in the sheets, his body jerking, and arching to get more of the feeling.

He tucks an arm underneath his body to touch himself, give him another little push because he couldn't get the feeling fast enough. The buzz of adrenaline is hot under his skin, and James presses back against Steve, demanding more, making him give everything he had, and though Bucky knew it was only a portion of what he was capable of, a diluted version of his desire to keep himself in control, it's so, so good. He wants that power, that strength, that control. He wants to be able to whisper to Steve when he fucks him, let his mind drift into the headspace that let him lose himself. Where he wasn't listening for someone to walk in on them, or the artificial hum of a surveillance device, when he was completely absorbed in Steve.

Steve climbs up on the bed before he gets too close, peeling away their clothes, and coaxing James, who was already heavy and dizzy with pleasure, to get on his hands and knees. Steve had many favorite positions, but this one definitely made the list. With his hands on James' hips, he fucks him down into the mattress until he's pressed up against his back, kissing his neck, quick for only a few minutes more, then allowing himself only a few lazy thrusts before pulling out, and curling up with James.

They kiss, leisurely now, jerking each other off between they bodies, and with Steve's moans and gasps against his mouth, it doesn't take James long at all. Steve had attempted to continue their kiss, but even Bucky couldn't, letting himself ride out his finish in peace before settling in for post coital kisses, and cuddling.

Steve was exhausted, James hadn't anticipated that, though he knows he should have. Between his mission, and the healing after, and now this, he was ready to collapse. James managed to get a few sleepy kisses from him as he came down, leaning his head against James shoulder, humming a soft noise of approval when he strokes fingers down his back, soothing him.

He's asleep surprisingly fast, and James finds that endearing. He kisses Steve's forehead, and snuggles up beside him. Sleeping with Steve is easier now, like being wrapped in a huge bear hug, warm and cosy and safe, and his only fear is a tingle of anxiety at the vulnerability of being naked, but with Steve's heavy body draped over his, he can relax, and let himself be held.

**Author's Note:**

> I prefer writing poetic, emotional smut to explicit. Some people got the gift, others need to achieve it, and I desperately need practice.
> 
> Wow, that was so bad.
> 
> Anyway... Writing two completely opposite chapters in one day screwed with my brain. XD No regrets.


End file.
